Do You Really Have to Grow Up?

On Saturday I attended my four-year-old daughter Ava’s preschool graduation. Ava is my third and final child. My third to go through and graduate from preschool; my third to grow up. Ava is the baby of the family, but in reality, she has not been a baby for a long time. No matter how much I sometimes wish she still was.

This next school year will be both a new beginning and an ending. Ava will be starting kindergarten, finally entering elementary school. My oldest, Andrew, will be entering the fifth grade and getting ready to leave and embark on this new journey through middle school. And, of course, we cannot forget Riley, who will proudly be starting second grade. Wait, is this about the time that kids stop believing in Santa? God, I hope not. I cannot deal with another kid not believing anymore. Then again, it will probably be Ava to break Riley’s heart, as Riley seems like one of those kids who will keep believing well into her teens if we let her.

That’s what this is all really about though; growing up. Why is it that when we were kids, time just could not move fast enough, but now that I have my own, it refuses to slow down. In just a few short years I will have a teenager, a few short years after that, another teen. No matter how proud I am to see the people they are becoming and the achievements they have made, it still breaks my heart to see them outgrow their childhood beliefs, loves, and possessions.

Since we already briefly talked about Santa, let’s circle back to there. As this time of year is when I really see it the most. Aside from Autumn, Christmas is my absolute favorite time of year. The trees, the lights, the decorations. The magic. But once your kid stops believing in Santa, the magic ends. I see it slowly dying in my home, as Andrew has finally gotten to the point that he no longer believes. Luckily, I have still got a little time left because of Riley and Ava, but the glimmer of magic is not quite as bright as it used to be.

Obviously, it is not just Christmas; it is in everything we do and everywhere we go. I remember taking Andrew to the mall when he was two and three years old. There was this really cool train that would drive around the lower level and younger kids could take a ride on it. Every time that train would pass, Andrew would just stop and stare at it in awe. If the mall still had that train, I am sure Andrew would still stop and watch it, but not in the childhood wonder like he used to. He would stop and talk about the mechanics of it; how it is made and how it runs.

Of course, it is the same with Riley, just not to quite the same extent yet. She is still into some toys and kid stuff in general, but she is slowly growing out of it. She is becoming more into jewelry, the clothes she wears, and the way she looks. Instead of Minnie Mouse and Sofia the First, she is more into characters from YouTube and playing video games.

With Ava, I have still got a little time left, but she is definitely growing up as well. For one, there is the fact that she is starting kindergarten in the fall. While she is still very much into Minnie and Sofia, her barbies and her blankie, she is slowly starting to care more about how she is dressed and how her hair is done.

Do not get me wrong, I am very excited for Ava to start kindergarten. I am very excited for them all to grow up and watch them come into their own. To watch their dreams and passions to come to life. But I am also terrified and depressed as hell by it. Gone are the days of hugs, kisses, and hand holding with Andrew. When will the last time be that the girls want to hold my hand or cuddle with me? Will I even notice when it happens? After all, it took me a while to notice when Andrew stopped. That scares me, but what scares me more, is the day they will stop needing me. I already see it with Andrew. Each day as he grows a little more, learns more, and becomes more and more independent, he needs me a little less. No matter how much I want to see them flourish into the people they are meant to become, it hurts a little deep down inside.

All that I can really do right, the best that I can do, is love them, hold them when they are scared, look forward to those middle of the night cuddles when they come crawling into my bed. Cherish every single moment with them, no matter how big or small. Let them know, that no matter what, I am always here for them. And trust that no matter how old they get, they will come to me when they need me. After all, I still need my own mom sometimes.